Terror in the Night
by AnonymousSanSama
Summary: This is the result of conversing with my best friend about a horror fic. Credit for the original idea goes to RedKingofCake, the author of "Winter Nightmares" of which this is based off of. Credit to my bestie who came up with this alternate end. R & R, please! Rated T for blood & character death which I can't believe I did. because I am paranoid like that


On the cold winter nights, Iceland prefered to stay alone in his room. He prefered to remain wrapped up in his blanket, staring out the window at the falling snow. He didn't want to be around his brother. Yes, Iceland had invited him over, but had quickly regretted it. He should have known that Norway would be fussing over him and his messy home. Right now, for all Iceland knew, Norway wasn't even in the house. Not that he knew for sure.

Watching the snow had made him fatigued. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep against the cold window sill.

An angry troll invaded his dreams.

Iceland sprinted as fast as he could to escape the creature his brother believed in.

_The irony_, Iceland thought bitterly. _Nor always says that these...things are harmless_.

The large green creature continued to pursue Iceland, a cruel smile plastered on its face. Iceland ran. Eventually, he nearly crashed into a dead end. Iceland doubled over, out of breath, panic rising. He slowly turned around, knowing and fearing what would approach him from behind.

The troll.

The enormous beast drew closer. Saliva dripped off its large tusks. This beast was hungry. Iceland knew that he'd be the next meal. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping it would be over swiftly. The troll roared. Iceland screamed. The troll struck.

Iceland's eyes flew open; his breating ragged and uneven.

He peered around at his surroundings, absorbing the familiar sights of his room.

_It was just a dream_, he thought, relief spreading through his body. _Just a dream. Just a dream._

It had felt so real though.

Once he calmed down, Iceland stiffly shifted so he could turn in for the night. He curls beneath his thick covers. Norway knew his way around the house. Iceland didn't need to show him anything, so he, Iceland, could just go to bed not worrying about his brother. Now that he thought about it, Norway hadn't looked so well when he'd arrived that afternoon, but didn't say anything about it, so Iceland wasn't concerned.

The troll plagued his dreams again.

This time, Iceland couldn't run away. He was planted in place out of fear. The large green beast approached him again, saliva dripping. It loomed over the terrified Icelander. As it opene it's mouth to devour the young Nordic, Iceland awoke in a cold sweat.

_What's wrong with me?_ Iceland wondered, resting his arm across his face.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thought process.

"Ice?" Norway. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded a little weaker than usual, missing part of its authoritative air.

"Yeah," Iceland replied wearily.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" To himself, Iceland added, _Why is he so concerned about me? Well, more than usual_.

He heard Norway's footsteps leading away from his door. Something sounded off about his brother's stride. It seemed irregular and heavy as oppsed to its usual light and even beat. Was his storbror feeling well?

Iceland didn't step out of his room all day. That night, the troll haunted him yet again.

He ran, hoping to escape the horrors that awaited him. Once again, he failed to be swift enough. Fortunately, like in the other nightmares, he woke up before dying.

Night after night, Iceland was plagued by horrifying nightmares by the troll. As according to the new routine, he always awoke before dying.

After a couple of weeks, Iceland boldy decided to stop sleeping. He couldn't bear the horrors anymore. Ever since the nightmares began, Iceland hadn't left his room. Concerned about his little brother, Norway decided to extend his stay. He brought Iceland his meals & tried to coax him to leave his bedroom, but to no avail. Iceland didn't notice Norway's failing health. He failed to see the paler pallor of Norway's skin, the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the newfound fragility of his thin frame.

Eventually, things only spiraled downward for the brothers over the next three days. Iceland's lack of sleep had drove him to his physical limits. Empty coffee cups & caffine filled soda cans littered the floor of his room. He didn't care, he had to remain awake. Even Mr. Puffin began to worry for his owner, but Iceland refused to say anything. Iceland wasn't sure whether he was relieved or concerned when Norway had finally left to return to his home. He'd muttered something about "receiving proper treatment" for something that Iceland wasn't so sure about. He couldn't remember whether Norway'd looked ill or not. He didn't think too deep into it.

On the third day, Iceland perched himself on a chair next to his window, watching the pure white snow fall to the ground. Bags and dark shadows lay beneath his eyes. He yawned. He felt so fatigued.

_Why am I so scared? _he wondered. _It's only a dream. Why does it bother me so much?_ He sighed. _Maybe I should talk to someone about it. _

As he mused over who to speak to, he promptly fell asleep.

This time around, something changed drastically.

Iceland found himself running from the troll yet again, but this time, he had a "guest." Shots rang out. Bullets tore through the air, striking the troll.

"Island! Flytt! Iceland! Move!" a voice yelled. "Get out of the way!"

Iceland turned to see Norway, wielding a hunting rifle, shooting the troll.

The troll roared, rearing its ugly head back. It chaged towards Norway. As it neared him, Norway switched tactics by using magic. It didn't seem to harm the troll much. It roared again, preparing to strike.

This time, it was too swift for Norway.

The large beast charged at the Nordic nation. Norway attempted to dodge, but the troll's large tusks had impaled him. Blood spurted from his mouth. His eyes lost what gleam they had The troll tossed the body off its tusks, turning its attention back to Iceland. It pounced.

Yet again, Iceland awoke in a cold sweat, panting and shivering from the overwhelming anxiety.

"Somethin' wrong, kid?" questioned Mr. Puffin.

"I-I don't know," Iceland admitted, cradling his head in his hands..

"Maybe ya just need some air. Get outta your room. Ya haven't left in weeks."

Iceland lifted his head. "Alright."

Iceland stiffly dragged himself off the chair. Peering out the windoe, he noticed the pale light of dawn.

_How long have I been asleep? _he wondered, rolling his stiff shoulders.

He slowly exited his room. His primary destination was the kitchen, where he washed his face and made himself a cup of hot chocolate, as he was temporarily boycotting coffee.

Mr. Puffin had flown towards the TV in the living room right next to the kitchen. Using his beak, the black bird pushed the Power button on the remote. The TV turned on to a breaking news broadast.

A look of horror crossed Iceland's face. His mug slipped out his hand, smashing to pieces once it collided with the tiled floor when he heard a snipet of the news report.

"..._Scientists and officials are looking into the baffling massacres that wiped out the Norwegian population. The personification has mysteriously disappeared as well-_"

Iceland quickly shut the television set off, unable to listen to another second of the news cast.

_Norway. Gone. _ Iceland though in terror. _No. No. That's impossible. It was only a dream... Right? _

As a new blizzard began to brew, the troll moved on.


End file.
